When the Tables are Turned
by 14hpgirl19
Summary: Reid is abducted by a serial killer who forces their victims to confront their neglectful fathers. Forced to relieve a part of his life he wished he never had to, he chooses to call someone else to pose as his father. He just hopes it will work... Rated T to be safe.


**Hope you enjoy this little one-shot! Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you thought at the end! =)**

The last time Reid talked to his father, it was after Reid had accused him of murder. That was years ago, five in fact, and Reid hadn't contacted him since. He didn't want to. It hurt too much to look at the man and try not to wonder whether anything he said was true.

That's why when the UnSub demanded that Reid call his father s0 he could confront him, Reid's first thought was "Heck no."

For one thing, his dad was in Las Vegas, not Philadelphia. Also, Reid had no desire to call out his father on his mistakes again. He had done it before, and it did not bring him any satisfaction then.

"You're weak," the UnSub, a man named Lewis Mitchell, spat. "You need to learn how to stand up for yourself. The world isn't kind to sad sacks like you."

He had struck when Reid was least expecting. He never thought he could become a victim, so when he was knocked out in the hallway of his hotel, his only thought was "You've got to be kidding me."

Now Reid was chained to a pole in Mitchell's basement, staring down the barrel of a gun. This situation was uncomfortably familiar.

They had profiled that the UnSub had Daddy issues. He had been abused by his own father when he was younger, and now he was taking it out on fathers and sons with similar relationships. He would abduct the son and make him confront his abusive father before killing them both. The team had figured this out when they talked to the second victim's mother. She admitted that her husband used to hurt their son, both physically and verbally.

There were three sets of victims in total. The third father had outright abandoned his family. That was the one that made the case personal for Reid. Still, he didn't think he could be a victim because he thought there would be no way for the UnSub to know his dad left him.

_Of all the times to be wrong, _he mused.

"If you don't stand up to him, you'll never be _free_," Mitchell stressed. There was a deranged look in his eye that made Reid lean back as far as possible.

"How do you know I haven't?"

Mitchell's eyes narrowed. "I saw you with your coworkers. They're _worried_ about you, the blonde one and the black one." His voice became mocking with the last part. "If you faced him already, they wouldn't be terrified of your reaction."

So he had stalked him. Mitchell probably had been interested in what FBI knew. It was true that JJ and Morgan had shown a lot of concern when the third victim's story matched his, but Reid hadn't realized someone had been watching when they asked him about it outside the precinct.

Choosing his words carefully, he said, "Then you know they'll be looking for me. This won't end well for you if you try to keep me."

"I know what you're trying to do, and it won't work. You're a worthless piece of shit that needs to grow a pair!" Mitchell leaned closer, getting in Reid's face. His tone became deadly. "He deserves to pay for what he's done to you. The sooner you realize that, the better."

Reid gulped without intending to. He didn't know what did to do. He couldn't call his dad! As much as part of Reid hated him, he could not condemn him to his death. He couldn't do that without making sure the team was there to save them both.

Unless….

"Fine," he gasped. "You're right. I'll do it."

Mitchell seemed pleased. He pulled a disposable cell phone from his pocket.

"Number." It wasn't even a request; it was an order. Reid dutifully recited the number he had long ago committed to memory. When it started ringing, Mitchell wedged it between Reid's head and shoulder and told him exactly what to say.

Reid just hoped his plan would work.

* * *

The Philadelphia Police Department was a chaotic mess of activity. After spending far too many hours without anything new, the abduction of the youngest FBI agent caused the investigation to skyrocket. People were racing back and forth, demanding new files and ordering more road blocks. His team was frantically reviewing all they knew, which, unfortunately, wasn't much.

Aaron Hotchner was beside himself with worry, but he couldn't let it show. He was the leader, and he needed to stay focused. Still, he could not stop thinking about what happened the last time Reid had been taken.

He was staring at the map of Philadelphia when his phone rang. Not bothering to check the caller ID, he answered. "Hotchner."

"Hi, uh, Dad."

Even though the title threw him, Hotch recognized that voice immediately. "Reid?"

"Yeah, it's me."

Hotch motioned to Morgan, who was sitting at the conference table. He didn't need to, for Morgan was already telling Garcia to track the call.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. We, uh, need to…talk."

That was what the sons said to their fathers. Hotch understood.

"Is he in the room with you? Can he hear us?"

"Yeah. Look, I know we haven't talked in a few years, but I think it'd be good if we could see each other."

"I understand, Reid. Don't worry; we're coming."

"Come alone," Reid added hastily. "This needs to be between you and me." He gave Hotch the address.

"Hold on, Reid. We'll be there soon." Hotch couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard Reid breathe a sigh of relief.

"See you soon, Dad." The phone's connection cut off, leaving Hotch listening to the dial tone.

"Garcia got an address," Morgan announced. The rest of the team had rushed in a few moments earlier, and now they were all inching toward the door.

"So did I. Reid told me."

"Well, then let's go!" Morgan was getting impatient.

"Wait," Hotch said. "We need to think this through." Everyone moved reluctantly back into the room.

"He's right," Rossi agreed. "If we rush out now, it could cost Reid his life."

"I need to go in alone," Hotch said. Everyone stared at him.

"You're joking, right?" Morgan asked.

"Do I joke, Morgan? I need to go in alone. You guys will surround the house, but only once I'm inside."

"May we ask why?" Blake asked, worry evident on her face.

"When Reid called, he referred to me as 'Dad.' He's playing along with the UnSub's fantasies, which includes Reid confronting his father."

"And you're going to pretend to be him," JJ realized. Hotch nodded.

"The UnSub will be watching me walk up. It's like a walk of shame to him; the father coming to face his misdeeds. If he sees a team of FBI agents storming up, Reid's gone.

"What's going to happen is this…"

* * *

After the phone call, it became a waiting game. Mitchell dragged Reid upstairs into the living room. It was Mitchell's father's old house, with everything still intact.

Mitchell shoved Reid onto the lumpy couch and aimed the gun at him to make sure he didn't run. Reid sat perfectly still, watching Mitchell peer out the window.

They remained like that for how long, Reid didn't know. He was too busy worrying about whether or not Hotch understood what he was walking into.

After what felt like hours, Mitchell leapt back from the window.

"He's here."

Reid's stomach rolled, and he tried to crane his neck to see outside, but Mitchell yanked him away from view. A moment later there was a brisk knock on the door that Reid recognized as Hotch's.

With one last withering glance, Mitchell stomped to the door. Reid could see it clearly from where he sat. Mitchell threw open the door and pointed the gun at Hotch.

"Get inside," he growled.

Hotch looked appropriately startled and obeyed with the right amount of hesitance. He had ditched the suit jacket and tie in favor of looking less professional. He sent Reid a questioning look.

"Spencer, what's going on?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered in response. It was for more than keeping the charade up. This was the second time Reid had singled Hotch out and risked his life, and he hated it.

"Your son wants to speak with you," Mitchell said. He tilted his head, indicating for Hotch to move farther into the room.

"And you're here because…?" Hotch directed this at Mitchell, his infamous stare present.

"He needed some coaxing. I took it upon myself to help." He turned the gun on Reid. "Now talk."

Reid didn't know what to say. He opened his mouth and shut it again. Nothing.

"I said talk, boy!"

Hotch pleaded with is eyes, silently begging, "Just say something." Reid took a deep breath.

"You left," he said quietly. "You just upped and left, right when Mom and I needed you most."

Hotch's eyes filled with pain. Not because he did what Reid said he did, but because he knew these were Reid's actual feelings and experiences.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm so sorry."

"Why'd you do it?" Reid asked. He clasped his hands together tightly.

"I… I…"

"He asked you a question!" Mitchell thundered.

"I felt like that was the only thing I could do. I felt so helpless, especially with everything concerning your mother…"

"We needed you," Reid said lowly.

"I know." Hotch hung his head. "I wish I could take it back. You know, make it so I never hurt you, but I can't. Spencer, I'm so incredibly sorry."

Reid's eyes were filled with tears. He knew it wasn't actually his dad saying these things to him, but even imagining it was too much.

"Sorry isn't enough," he said thickly. "It doesn't fix years of abandonment."

"I know, but it's a start, right?" Hotch asked hopefully. "I want to make it up to you, if you'd let me." Before Reid could answer, Hotch turned to Mitchell. "Just let us go. My son and I can work this out, but not under the pressure of a gun."

"NO!" Mitchell's face was twisted with rage. "You can't just WORK IT OUT. You can NEVER make up for what you did!"

He took a step towards Hotch. Reid, sensing danger, jumped up and stepped between them.

"Stop!" he cried, but it was pointless. His shout was drowned out by Morgan yelling, "FBI! Put the weapon down!"

The room was filled with police officers and FBI agents alike. Each of them was pointing a gun at Mitchell, who had frozen in his tracks.

"What?"

Rossi stepped forward and cuffed him, passing the gun over to Blake. "Lewis Mitchell, you are under arrest for the murders of six men…"

"You guys okay?" JJ asked, motherly concern taking over.

"I'm fine. You should get your head checked out, Spencer," Hotch instructed. Reid just nodded, a lost look in his eyes. Morgan guided him out the door.

"Is he okay?" Blake asked after a moment of silence.

"Would you be?" JJ asked. Blake paused, then shook her head.

"Excuse me," Hotch said abruptly, striding out the door. JJ and Blake exchanged looks and shrugged.

Outside, Reid was being checked out at the back of an ambulance. Morgan was standing close by, watching. When Reid noticed Hotch staring at him, he ducked his head, almost as if he was ashamed. Hotch felt a pang in his chest.

"How is he?" Hotch asked the EMT.

"He has a bit of a headache, but I don't think he has a concussion. He should be fine if he takes an Advil."

"Morgan, why don't you go get one?" Hotch suggested pointedly, his eyes never leaving Reid. Morgan glanced at Reid, then back at Hotch. Finally he turned and walked away with the EMT, leaving Hotch alone with Reid, who was still focused on the ground.

Hotch sat down next to Reid and waited. He knew the younger agent would talk when he felt like it, if he ever felt like it.

"I'm sorry."

For a second Hotch was not sure if Reid even spoken. Then he wondered if Reid had spoken _correctly._

"What for?"

"For dragging you into this. You could've been killed."

"I'm not hurt. He didn't even touch me."

"But he was about to. Even though I stepped in front of you."

"Which you shouldn't have done. He would've surely killed you."

Reid mumbled something unintelligible.

"I'm sorry?"

Reid coughed. "I couldn't let him hurt you."

Hotch's heart clenched. Closing his eyes briefly, he sighed.

"If anyone should be apologizing, it's me." Reid started to protest, but Hotch held up a hand to stop him.

"What you just had to remember, no one wants to remember. It couldn't have been easy."

"You had no choice. Anything else and Mitchell would have known we were lying."

Hotch looked at the young man before him. Reid had endured so much, accomplished so much…and his father would never know.

"I'm proud of you," Hotch said softly. Reid's head snapped up in surprise.

"You're what?"

A tiny smile appeared on Hotch's face. "I'm proud of you. You've seen some of the most awful things in this world, yet you're still here, seeing them, doing this job. Not many people can."

Reid flushed with pride. "Thanks, Hotch."

The grin that was on Reid's face stayed there the whole way home.


End file.
